Unimagined
by Aksannyi
Summary: What was it that really made Ziva walk away from NCIS and her surrogate family? AU set beginning at the ending of Season 10. A series of vignettes in the life of Ziva David and her departure - and what happens when Tony finds her, more changed than he expected.


**Because I'm still having trouble with the idea that Ziva would voluntarily walk away without some sort of drastic thing happening. **

**Picks up before the Season 10 finale and follows canon up to the start of S11, and goes AU from there. **

**You may need tissues at some point, fair warning. **

* * *

It wasn't something she'd actively gone seeking when she went to the doctor's office a few weeks after the pain in her shoulder refused to subside. In truth, she wanted to get there, perhaps do an x-ray or two and be given a script for some more painkillers.

Simple and painless. Or – as painless as it could be, given the fact that she was there for painkillers, after all.

But the doctor wanted to look at something more closely, and before she even knew what was happening, she'd given blood and had a mammogram.

Turns out, 31 is not too young for a breast cancer scare.

Or, as it so happened a few days later, a diagnosis.

She didn't even know how to react, after all, she'd been quite literally to hell and back and that hadn't killed her, so why would cancer choose her? And as she struggled with the very real and very scary possibilities before her and the treatment options she realized something:

She had no idea how she would begin to tell them. Any of them.

So when she apologized to Tony in the woods outside the cabin, she made sure to tell him that she cared – in her way – and that she valued their friendship, because now, with the future so uncertain, friendship was all she could hope to give him.

And later, before placing her badge on Vance's desk, she realized just how little she actually _had _depended on happy endings. It was why she found it so much more difficult to enjoy Tony's movie escapism, because life didn't have neat little ends tied up in perfectly packaged bows.

Something she'd always been all too painfully aware of.

* * *

It didn't take her long to make the decision to return to Israel, because in Israel, she could hide.

And not just from the most recent terrorist who wanted to claim her life, either, but from having to face her illness, and having to face her friends knowing about her illness.

So she ran, at the first opportunity – something she'd really never done before.

For some reason, standing and fighting when it had been a physical danger was the least terrifying option. She wasn't afraid of a human. She could fight that battle, and she would always win. That was what she'd trained for.

Nothing had prepared her for this. For her own body attacking itself. And to face those she loved and burden them with this fight, this fight that was not theirs, it was just too much.

That's what she told herself as she left.

So she began treatment alone, and in silence. Gibbs had disappeared, McGee was busy with his new girlfriend, and Abby just exhausted her with her constant cheerful optimism. Which left Tony, who she kept at arm's length and communicated with via text.

They'd never been quite to the point where they would spend time with one another outside of work, and so she didn't even have to mention that she'd left the country. So when he asked what she was up to, she didn't have to lie when she said she was reading, because that was what she spent most of her time doing.

She just left out the part about not being in the same hemisphere anymore.

* * *

She didn't think he'd actually come, so when she told him she was in Israel reconnecting and thinking about things (again, not a lie), she was surprised when he booked the first flight he could.

That had never been their relationship before, and she didn't expect that it would have ever changed.

She was already starting to lose weight from her treatment, and she feared that her hair would be the next victim. She'd never really thought much about her hair. Sure, she liked to make sure it looked nice, but she'd never given any thought to the fact that it was an important part of her. And she didn't want Tony to see any of that, and _know. _

Turns out, he wouldn't have to.

She couldn't deny that she was a little relieved. Naturally that he was safe and most definitely not shot, but also that he would not be coming here.

She wasn't ready to share her secret with him, and for that, she felt just a little guilty, because she'd lied. Again.

* * *

She was so tired.

The chemo was really beginning to take its toll on her, and although her hair was thinning, she hadn't lost it entirely. The doctors told her that she may be one of the people who never lost it at all.

Small victories, it seemed.

But if she was being honest, she was tired of hiding.

After Tony's close call with a bullet, she'd chosen to relocate. She still sought treatment via a trusted doctor, but it was under an assumed name, and with an in-home nurse whom she'd personally vetted.

No chances, after all. But the elderly woman, Nurse Chanah, was hardly an assassin, and Ziva soon fell into a comfortable friendship with her as she did all she could to facilitate recovery.

She knew that Tony was undoubtedly looking for her, but she wasn't ready to face him yet. Her close friend and primary care physician, Dr. Dina Bashir, was the only other person who knew where she was, and understood that her location must be kept private.

Dina would lie for her, if necessary.

* * *

There were days when Ziva was convinced that she was going to die.

She could barely stand on those days, and her heart sank when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, face gaunt and pale, eyes devoid of any of their previous light, and hair that had finally betrayed her after all and fallen out. She'd stumble to the bathroom to vomit as the drugs continued to wreak havoc on her system.

She hoped that with all of the food that came out of her that way, some of the illness was going along with it, at the very least.

Those were the days she fiercely hoped that Tony would never find her. Because how could she let the man she loved watch her waste away like this? She knew that he held feelings for her, too, and that it would destroy him to watch her suffering like she was.

To watch her _dying_ as she was.

* * *

He found her in October.

It was one of her better days, if she was being honest, but she still knew that the sight of must have been a shock, because he looked upon her without saying a word for several minutes, until one: "Why?"

_Why._ The word reverberated through the air as she asked herself the same question. Why did this happen to her? Now, when she'd found freedom and even some small happiness?

But she knew the real question: _Why did you keep this secret from me? _

She didn't know the answer. But when a sudden dizzy spell hit and she swayed forward, he was there to catch her, and in a daze, she felt herself being carried toward the couch.

He was still kneeling beside her when her vision came back to rights, and she spoke, barely, admitting for the first time out loud, "I have breast cancer, Tony."

It was the first time she saw him cry, and had she had any tears left, she may have cried along with him.

* * *

He stayed with her.

He didn't explain why he wasn't returning to NCIS, not to Tim, Abby, or even Gibbs. Gibbs probably assumed it had something to do with Ziva, but she never contacted him, and he didn't try to force the issue with either of them.

It was surprisingly easy for Tony to drop everything once he realized where his priorities lay, and he vowed that he would fight with Ziva, even though she continued to insist that it wasn't his fight.

"It's almost like old times," he joked, because if there was anything that felt normal, it was Ziva refusing his assistance. She refused him at every turn, but he fought back equally, and she realized that it wasn't worth the energy getting all worked up.

But deep down, she was grateful that he'd come, and that he'd accepted the news with silent grace. And although she saw sadness in his eyes, she saw something she hadn't had in months.

Hope.

* * *

She couldn't deny it any longer, that Tony's presence made her stronger. Maybe it was just the fact that she'd always fought with him – over silly things, like what to have for lunch or who would drive – and even on the things that mattered. Their relationship had always been one of constant conflict.

It was a fighting spirit she didn't even know that he brought out of her until he'd come to her. Only then did she realize how much she'd missed it.

With new determination, the treatments began to make her stronger. Where the prognosis before Tony's arrival had not been good, now, it was looking more and more likely that she would recover.

"I love you," she whispered to him one night, late. She didn't remember when or why he'd started sleeping in the same bed, but it made sense, somehow, that he was always there when she needed him.

And she never realized just how much she had, in fact, needed him.

She suspected he was asleep when he didn't answer, and it was fine, because now it was out in the open. But she didn't need to hear him say it back. He'd spent four months tracking her down to the most obscure parts of Israel and quit his job without a second thought when he realized she was sick.

She already knew.

* * *

Remission.

There was a time when she hadn't thought it possible. Now, it was a reality, a truth.

A victory.

She smiled for the first time, perhaps, since she'd left DC over a year ago, and she couldn't help but notice the smile on the face of her partner.

Partner, she mused. He wasn't her partner anymore, at least in the sense that he'd always been. But, she supposed, he would always be her partner in some other way, like the ring that sparkled on her finger seemed to suggest.

He always believed in her, she realized. Which is why he followed her, pushed at her, and forced her to let him in. Because where she didn't believe in her own happy ending, _he _did.

He was her happy ending, and it took her nearly dying – more than once, she knew – to see it.

"Let's go home, Ziva," he said, beaming as she wrapped her arms around him in joyous relief.

* * *

Home, it turned out, was not the United States, not anymore, but it wasn't Israel, either. As soon as Ziva was well enough, they relocated, to Marseilles, and chose not to return to NCIS, opting instead to live off the inheritance that Eli David had left behind.

They eloped almost immediately, and lived quietly on the Cote d'Azur, soaking up life.

A life that, until recently, they couldn't imagine they would have.

* * *

**Fin**


End file.
